


Harold the Mustache and His Demise

by dearjayycee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Mustaches, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:53:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearjayycee/pseuds/dearjayycee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock hated it and he would do anything to get rid of that horrid facial hair on his lovely John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harold the Mustache and His Demise

**Author's Note:**

> The Mustache must go. This is my head cannon of how it ends.

            John Hamish Watson, ex-army doctor, and proud owner of a beautiful, magnificent mustache.  

 

            He had grown it in Sherlock’s absence and now that he had returned, a fist greeting him when he had the bullocks to stroll back into 221B Baker St. as if nothing had happened, Sherlock protested its presence whole-heartedly. Saying things such as, “It obstructs my view of your face,” or things like, “Harold is a ridiculous name for a mustache.”

 

            “Harold is a fine name for a mustache,” the only reason John had named it was so when he talked to it he seemed more civil. He hated the idea of just talking to hair on his upper lip without giving it a name. It would have been rude to continue to call it ‘you.’ “And besides, it’s my mustache and I like it, so bugger off.”

 

            Sherlock schemed to no end on ways to get rid of the thing. It ruined everything, kissing was horrible…once John finally forgave him and warmed up to the idea of them actually being in love. Not to mention the way it felt like steel wool when rubbing up against his cock. Though he wouldn’t protest that as long as John’s perfectly pink lips were wrapped around him. To all things provable did he love those lips.

 

            So finally Sherlock figured out the only way to get John to remove the hideous blemish on his perfect skin. He started to allow his own facial hair to grow, no matter how much he loved the feeling of a shaved face. The horrible feeling of hair being finally allowed to grow, a few ingrown hairs irritating the usually clear skin, drove him nearly mad. John had laughed saying, “See they’re not so bad, you’re going for full beard as well?”

 

            “Yes, John,” Sherlock covered his smirk with the cuppa in his hand, John’s tea was a comfort he had missed in his time away, everything else he had had was merely flavored water. None of it had the right to be called tea.

 

            Once the coarse black hair was finally at the appropriate stubble needed for the job, he propositioned John. Sherlock had told John he wanted to go slower, didn’t want to engage in anything sexual for a while. And sure John had been peeved and yelled things such as, “Did I not do a good enough job?” It had taken a while to convince John that was not the case and that he just wasn’t ready to move any farther for a little while, that he need to collect his thoughts in the mean time.  So now he had John splayed before him, legs spread and thighs shivering.

 

            John was not going to like his plan but in time he would come to forgive Sherlock, well at least that’s what he hoped.

 

            Sherlock finished pulling the trousers from John, taking his shirt off directly after, tossing them carelessly on the floor. For whatever reason the clattering of John’s belt buckle on the floor was ever so pleasing. Sherlock would just have to figure out why at a later time but for right now he needed to get rid of that horrendous mustache.  As he crawled up the bed the blush that covered John’s cheeks got darker and darker, and the lip caught between straight teeth was getting to the point of utterly abused. It was nice to see John in this much unbearable want. Long fingers splayed across warm thighs, teasing with soft brushes running closer and closer to everything John wanted.

 

            Sherlock ran a single fingertip up the underside of John’s hard, waiting cock, extracting an uncensored moan from the man but stopping right before reaching the swollen head. Oh, how he loved to tease John. Sherlock lightly pet the ridge, and when John’s hand came down to try to push Sherlock into more, Sherlock slapped the hand away.   Continuing with his teasing, Sherlock slowly fingering John’s erection like he would the neck of a violin…playing some unheard melody. He licked his lips as John forced himself not to touch his partner, hands fisting the sheets as if he was hold on for dear life.

 

            He kissed the trembling skin covering John’s hips, trying his hardest not to let his stubble touch the soft skin. Sherlock didn’t want to ruin the surprise this early on. Sherlock’s lips made there way closer and closer to the leaking head that rested on John’s abdomen. With precum dripping, Sherlock couldn’t help but let a pink tongue dart out to taste the bitter liquid, ever so slightly brushing the tip of John’s cock.

 

            John’s body lifted off the bed while trying to force his penis into Sherlock’s mouth, groaning when he couldn’t find the paradise he was looking for. Sherlock pulled back, looking at John with a smirk settled on his face, waiting to hear John beg for it. He wanted John to be completely riddled with want, blinded with it so he wouldn’t notice the calculating look on Sherlock’s face too soon.

 

            “Goddammit, Sherlock-“

 

            Sherlock cut him off by squeezing the base of John’s erection, but the pressure soon went away, “Yes, John?”

 

            “If you don’t put my cock in your mouth right now get out.” John was using his Captain voice that only came out when he meant business. Sherlock was helpless to resist, though it made his own erection twitch in the most pleasing of ways. Sherlock had forgotten his own desires and momentarily he wanted to just devour John but then that stupid mustache on John’s lip was still there and it was extremely hard to stop the need to glare at it. As if that would somehow make it disappear. Maybe he could tap into the power of his mind and somehow make it vanish with willpower alone. Practice would be needed.

 

            “You ruin all my fun,” he pouted for a few seconds before kissing John’s penis, finally doing as the man wished. Licking at it like one would a lollipop, anything to drive the whimpering blond insane and to make him annoyed.

 

            A half-growl half-moan came from above him so he sunk down on the hard-on in front of him before John got bossy again. Not to say that he didn’t love bossy John. Sherlock sucked his cheeks in while his tongue went to work on licking the underside, stroking the pounding veins.

 

            His hand went up to pinch a dusky nipple, the other one cupped John’s testicles while rolling them. Sherlock wanted to drive John mad, he was going to get his revenge for all those hairy kisses yet.

 

            Once John was to the point of not caring what Sherlock did just as long as he got off, Sherlock reached under the part of John’s thighs that were now squeezing his head to keep him in place, to flip him onto his stomach. Sherlock pulled his hips up so that a nice pink hole was facing him, the blonds head buried into a pillow with embarrassment. John pushed his bottom further up, back arching at a delicious angle.  Sherlock’s mouth went dry, he quickly wet his lips and plucked up the courage for what he was about to do. He held John’s hips in place and started to lick and kiss the skin under his mouth but most of all he was rubbing his steel wool cheeks onto the sensitive skin. The initial moans turned into painful groans when Sherlock basically started to motorboat John’s cheeks, rubbing as hard as he could without seriously hurting the other.

 

            “Sherlock stop!”

 

            John tried to pull away but Sherlock just grabbed his hips tighter, refusing to give up now. He mumbled into John’s ass, “Promise you’ll shave that thing.”

 

            “Really! That’s what this is about?” John sounded completely flabbergasted. His head turned sharply over his shoulder so that he could get a good look at the man still nested between his ass cheeks, nose resting on the end of his spine. The blush that covered John’s face didn’t lessen any at seeing Sherlock on him like that. “Okay, get up,” Sherlock followed his command and John marched out of the room leaving him sitting on the bed wondering if he had accomplished his goal or if it had all been for naught.

 

            John peered around the door, glaring at the man on the bed, “You’re not shaving as well?”

 

            He jumped off the mattress and followed; glad to finally get rid of Harold. What a stupid name for a mustache, Angus would have been far superior.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did you enjoy it?


End file.
